Always Yours
by Angel Reid . Tobias Dominik
Summary: Things are different when Lars moves out people change, and Twister wonders if he's changed the most out of them all....Slash
1. Prolouge

Disclaimer: I don't own Rocket Power, and I don't suppose anyone would be willing to sell me it?

A/N: So, once upon a time, Angel Reid had a story in the Rocket Power fandom. Then, by some misfortune, the story got deleted, or forgotten, or both; forgottenly deleted. In any case, the writer of said story can't even remember what the story was called. Sad, isn't it? At any rate, I've decided to write another RP fic. Fear thee who enter. Obviously it's slash. I'm just not completely sure who's going to be with who. Otto/Twister, obviously. Possibly Twister/Lars…es random friend. (oh, you thought I'd say Lars, didn't you XD ) Well, we'll see. Who knows. Maybe there'll be an incestuous twist. :smirks:

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Prologue.

Things have been different since Lars moved out. Before, we would always fight; he'd act like a jerk, I'd act back, and _mi padres_ would have to split us apart. My motherwould always ask us where she went wrong, why we couldn't just get along. She didn't understand the rivalry; didn't understand that Lars was Lars, and I was Twister, and that was that. We couldn't get along because we were constantly competing.

'Why can't you two be like your padre and his hermano? They never fight!' she would exclaim, her hands waving in that Spanish way all we Hispanics tend to speak with. My abuela once claimed the Spanish way to be over feeding our children and speaking with our hands.

But since Lars moved out, he's changed. He isn't the big headed, ill tempered big brother I once had, but instead an even tempered young man who asks me about my day, sends me emails, invites me to his apartment down by the shore. It's weird, but…I don't know. I like it well enough, even if it still creeps me out when my brother asks me if I want to hang out.

Things have been different with the gang since Lars moved out, too. Reggie and Sam are seniors, and even dating. It was pretty weird at first. Reggie's gotten a little more feminine, but she's still the same Reg. Sam's a little thinner, a little taller, and a lot smarter. He's taking college AP classes this year, so his free time isn't what it use to be.

Otto's…well, Otto still hasn't changed. He's still the bonehead jock he always was. He got onto the school field hockey team, just like he always said he would. Still talks before he thinks. I think out of everyone, he's changed the least. And I can't help but love him for it; he's familiarity in an ever changing world. Same dreads, same shades, same speak without thinking personality. I can't help but be drawn to him.

So, I guess this means I've changed the most.

When I was twelve, I'd always imagined that at sixteen, I'd be the cream of the crop. I never imagined I'd be head of the school AV club, a member of the school surf team, best friends with my brother and in love with my best bro.

Funny how things change, huh?


	2. Chapter 1

To ensure that this story gets done, these chapters won't be horribly long. I'm sorry. You can whip me out back later. Promise.

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1.

It's weird, sitting at the breakfast table by yourself when you're so use to having to put up with your older brothers teasing you. The house is quiet; my mother having yet to come downstairs, my father on another business trip. I don't mind the quiet; it's the empty house feeling that gets to me. I have to be over at the Rocket's in ten minutes or else Otto's going to leave without me, but that's okay; plenty of time to finish eating my cereal and head over.

The phone rings.

"Rodriguez residence, Twister speaking." There silence for a long moment, then I hear a soft sigh. I glance at the clock-six thirty, almost time to go-and repeat my well rehearsed phone greeting.

"Yo, Twist. Is mom around?" I stretch my hearing, trying to hear any sign of wakened life from upstairs. I don't hear anything; no shower, no alarms going off.

"Dunno, bro. I don't hear her." Lars' answering sigh of relief is confusing but I don't question it. Maybe he just didn't want to wake her up. I've only got three minutes now, and I can see Otto and Reggie getting their boards from their front yard. "Any reason for this call, Lars, or did you just get the urge to chat at six thirty in the morning?" He coughs, and I wonder if he realized what time it was when he called. Otto's peeking across the road at me, waving and pointing to his watch, but I just point to the phone and shrug. Nothing I can do about a phone call, and besides, the only reason he wants to be early so he can show off in the parking lot.

"Just wondering if my little bro wants to come visit tonight. I have the entire weekend off, we could chill, watch some movies. You could come to the party I'm having Saturday too, if you want." He's been doing this a lot lately, inviting me to hang out; mom thinks its guilt at having treated me so bad growing up, but I know what it really is, what she's not saying.

Big bad Lars Rodriquez misses his baby brother.

"Sure. Can I invite a friend?" I ask, playing with the phone cord as I watch Otto and Reg start across the street towards my house. I know I only have minutes to convince Lars to let me bring Otto to his party. I know the answer already- either a very firm no, or an extremely reluctant yes. Lars can't stand Otto; thinks he's arrogant (he is) and bossy (it's true) and an over all jerk in general. He doesn't get why we're friends; I guess I don't really get it, either.

"So long as it aint lame-o Otto, sure." He states, but his tone leads me to believe I have a chance at a good fight for this one.

"Please Lars? I don't want to be the only high school kid there. All your friends are university kids." There's a knock at the door, and I cover the phone and holler a 'it's open' to Otto and Reg. They both enter, with Sam right behind them, so I guess they met up with Squid somewhere between their place and mine. I motion for them to be silent, and continue my bargaining of sorts. "I promise it'll be just you and me for the rest of the weekend. Besides, if that creepy guy is there, I can use Otto as an excuse. He totally weirds me out, bro, he's like, twenty three and hits on me all the time." Otto raises an eyebrow at this, and I mouth 'Lars' at him. He nods, and points to the clock. We're usually heading out by now. I wave two fingers at him, and he backs off.

"Well…those are pretty valid reasons. Anything else you care to add if we're making a list?" I grin; I've pretty much won. A rare victory indeed.

"Because you love your little brother and would hate to see him not have fun at the big kid party?" Lars laughs and I grin, waving for Sam to pass me my helmet and board. He hands them over, and I grab my book bag from the table.

"Okay, Rocket dork can come. I'll pick you up after school, dweeb." I snort, but say my goodbyes and hang up, giving Otto a grin as I put my empty bowl in the sink and motion towards the door.

"So, how about a university party, Ottoman?"

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Second period Spanish is boring. Mi Madre was the one who wanted me to sign up for it when I was picking courses last year; stating 'Your family is Spanish, you will pass this easy!' At the time, might I add, I had been failing French; so I suppose I can understand where she was coming from. But now, the work is way too easy; I'm getting bored doing it.

"Hey Twister. What's the Spanish phrase for 'this class is lame-o,' bro?" I snicker, glancing over at Otto even as senora Renaldo clears her throat at us. I give her a sheepish smile, and she nods, continuing with her lesson.

"I dunno about you, mi amigo, but I defiantly can't wait for lunch." I really can't; after lunch we have free period, and after that gym. We might head down to the Shore Shack, or maybe Mad Town. It's always nice having free period in the afternoon, even if it means we sometimes skip gym; although I certainly don't mind having it in the morning either. Sleeping in equals pretty awesome in my books.

"Three minutes left. It's like waiting for molasses, man." Otto glares at the clock, and I grin. Otto's never had any patience before; now isn't any exception. I start to pack up my books, just as the lesson comes to a close with Senora Renaldo asking us to read pages twenty to twenty five in our Spanish guides. I honestly don't know why Otto took Spanish; he has no head for languages. Just as I put my books away, the bell rings, and Otto's out of his chair pulling me to the door. We make it as far as the cafeteria before Reggie and Sam catch up to us; both lugging a table between them. Otto gives them a weird look, and I ask the question I know he won't.

"Sup with the table, dude and dudette?" Reggie grins, putting up a poster on the wall behind her.

"Skate tournie sign ups. You guys rockin' it this year?" Our school sponsors a skate tournament every year; it's a pretty big deal. Both Otto and I were in it last year; Otto took second, and I took third. I'd been wondering if it was going to happen again this year.

"Oh yeah, baby. You know it." Otto states, leaning down to place his name at the top of the list. I shake my head, both at Otto's excitement and to Reggie's question. Sam gives me a look, and Otto turns to me. "Aren't you gunna sign up, Twist?" I shake my head; after the fit Otto had last year, I'm not going to bother. It's not really worth wasting my time over, and plus, I have way too much to do with the surf competition coming up.

"Surf competition's the same weekend, bro," I stated, then turn to Reg and Sammy, "So I guess this means you two aren't comin' with to the Shore Shack?" Reggie shakes her head, and Sam shrugs. I shrug right back, and Otto extends his hand to Reggie.

"Keys, please." He states, and Reggie rolls her eyes. For her sweet sixteenth, Ray had given Reg a sweet little car that she was to share with Rocket boy; and while he's suppose to be allowed to drive it, I don't blame her for not letting him nine times out of ten. Much as I love him, Otto's a loon when it comes to anything with horsepower.

"Twist is driving. You know the rules. You guys coming back today for last period, or you planning on going AWOL?" I nod at the AWOL comment, and Sammy sighs. He hates it when we skip off, but secretly, he loves doing it too. I take the keys, and Otto gives Reg a salute; the same one he gives her before skipping off his chores.

"We're off to fun, sun, and wild adventures, bra. Shore Shack then some surfing. Have fun being here!" With that, Otto drags me out to the car, talking a mile a minute about the skate tournament.

Somehow, I'm getting a bad feeling about all this….


	3. Chapter 2

Officially, I'd like to thank all of you who have stuck around to read the first chapter of this little jaunt into what may or may not be a decent fic someday.

Unofficially, I'd like a pony. No, really, I would.

Warning: a little bit 'o language

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-2-

I wouldn't be the first to admit it, but Otto Rocket should never, ever, and let me stress this, EVER be allowed to drive anything with a motor in it. The boy thinks that speed limit means how fast you can go until the car stalls, and that stop signs are optional. It's no wonder Raymundo bought Reggie a car instead of him; perhaps it was because he felt Otto wasn't as mature as he needed to be to maintain a car, but I believe, rather firmly, that it was more for the safety and well being for everyone else. Bro thinks that Ocean Shores is his own personal race track.

"Come on, Twist, just let me drive to the Shore Shack from here. Please?" I know that, were this four years ago, there would be no hesitation, he'd already be driving. Well. If we could drive when we were twelve. You know what I mean. But now, I know better then to just give in to his crazy ideas and demands. I'm much better at saying no.

Some would say I've become sane.

"No, Otto. You don't have your license, and I'm not losing mine just so you can speed around in Reggie's car. Besides, we're like not even three minutes from the Shack, so chill, bro." He makes a face at me, and I roll my eyes, rolling to a stop at the lights near the boardwalk entrance. I can't help it if I know how to be responsible. Besides, I promised Reggie I'd never let him drive. Fear for human life and all.

"You like, totally suck, dude. Reggie has sucked all the fun out of you. Seriously." I laugh, pulling into a parking space, and motion for Otto to get out of the car, locking the door as I exit. We wander to the Shore Shack, waving to Tito as we help ourselves to a soda each. We've both worked here since we were twelve, except Raymundo finally legally hired us on last year. It's a pretty decent job, and we pretty much get run of the place when we're on shift; free food anytime, too. Not a bad deal at all, I must say.

"Hey, boys. The usual?" Raymundo appears from behind the grill, swatting my hand away from the fresh pineapples for the burgers with a spatula. I can't help it if I like to steal the slices; they taste better that way, honest to god.

"Yeah, dad. The usual. And when can I get my license?" Raymundo casts a glance at Otto before chuckling, turning to return to the grill.

"When I know you won't wrap yourself around a pole. Just enjoy your sister and Twister driving you around, little man. Driving isn't all that fantastic." I grin, taking a sip of my soda while Otto whines, and spin in my seat to look out at the waves. There's maybe five people out there; a lot of the adults who surf go out to the point to get away from us kids. Not that I blame them; we get pretty competitive out there, and if you get in our way, we get pretty mad. And as for the shoobies….well, they usually don't come around until summer.

"Hey, Twist. Earth to the Twist-meister. You sleepin', bro?" I glance over at Otto, who offers me a grin and nods to the ocean with a knowing look. While Otto's been dividing himself between all the sports he plays, I'm focused on surfing; it's like I can feel it in my bones, the wave in my blood…you know. All those silly clichés.

"I wish. Wanna hit the waves after this?" Raymundo peeks out from behind the grill and I know he's listening; although usually if he knows we're skipping out on gym, he doesn't really say anything. We know he use to do the same, and Raymundo has never been a hypocrite. Otto nods as the burgers are place before us, and Raymundo wipes his hands on his apron, moving to sit next to us.

"I don't know if I want you boys out there today, Rocket Boy. The waves are rough." Otto waves his hands about, mimicking surfing, and I cast a glance out to the shore. The waves are beating, yeah, but they don't look all that rough. I watch as a group of college students, probably out of classes for the day, pull up in a jeep; their boards tied to the roof as they pile out and head towards the Shore Shack. It takes me a minute to realize that I'm staring straight at Lars, and I smile, turning back to my burger. I doubt my brother wants to come eat with me and Otto, so I return my attention to Raymundo, who's telling us about the winds and the surf and something about sea turtles. I try not to laugh as Raymundo goes on to tell Otto once more that he can't get his license, chowing down on my burger as I watch Otto get frustrated.

"Hey, Twist. Shouldn't you be in school right now?" I jump as a hand lands on my shoulder, nearly dropping what's left of my burger as I let out a –I admit rather undignified- squeak. Lars laughed, leaning over my shoulder to steal my last bite, and I look at him. His friends are sitting at a booth near by, Tito taking their orders.

"Shouldn't you?" I ask, grinning at him as he sits down on the stool beside me. Otto rolls his eyes, finishing his soda before moving to steal my fries, and I swat his hand away without looking. Lars gives me a look, and I give him a small, sheepish grin,

"You know I have Friday's off. You, on the other hand, do not. What class are you skipping?" I make a face, nudging him with my elbow as I hand Otto what's left of my fries in defeat.

"I have lunch right now. And then a free period, and then gym. You can't expect me to go to gym, Lars. Have you SEEN the waves out there?" I throw my arms in the air, aiming for melodramatic. "They call to me, Lars! They say Twister, please! I need you on me!" He snickers, and Otto bursts into laughter beside me. I realize how wrong that sounds. I do. I just don't care. Lars shakes his head, patting my shoulder and getting up.

"I guess I know what you mean, dude. I'll see you later." With that, he goes to his booth, and I turn back to Otto, our sodas, and the thought of surfing.

-+-+

Raymundo was right.

I mean, Raymundo is usually right. He was right when he told us that one day Reggie would start dressing a bit more girly, right when he told us that some day Lars wouldn't be such a jerk, and he was defiantly, totally right about Otto being a bad driver. So, obviously, he was right about the waves. They were too big, too rough, too wild…

Of course, that didn't stop us. But, you know. Raymundo? Right.

"Twister, bro, wait until the second wave, right? Then go. It'll be rockin'." Otto has to practically yell to be heard over the waves, and I nod, shielding my eyes as I look out over the water. I get ready, watching as Otto takes the first wave, and then move to get the second. The second wave, which is much, much bigger then the first…

"Shit."

The wave is a lot more then I can handle. I don't know why I agreed to surf; I usually listen to Raymundo. I don't just blindly follow Otto anymore. Sure, I love him, but love can either blind you, or make you see all the flaws you never saw before. And as the song goes, I can see clearly now…the guy ain't pro, but I love him anyways. His ideas are usually half stemmed and dangerous…and yet I still give in from time to time. Sometimes they work out. Sometimes, I wonder if I might secretly have a death wish.

"Shit. Shit. Shit!"

I know I'm not going to make it to the shore; it's one of those things you can tell without really knowing. I can feel the wave swell beneath me, and even before it crashes over me, I feel like I'm under water. For that moment before the wave falls, you feel like you're just an insignificant speck, floating in the sea as a visitor, becoming an unwanted victim when she turns rough. And when gravity finally does it's part….

All you feel is pain, and then every thing goes dark.


	4. Chapter 3

Ick, I know, It's been like, a bajillion years. I'm sorry. I got distracted by the fandom known as Digimon. I know. Shame. Shaaaame.

But you know, I never know if anyone actually wants me to write more, because you know how writers are. Crazy and self conscious, lol. So comments are totally welcome and encouraged. Heck, even flames! It's starting to get cold here in Canada-land…

-3-

Sammy once told me that he thought the best way to die was to either go in your sleep or drown. I can't remember the logistics behind the drowning one; something about not knowing what was happening, not feeling any pain. I decided then and there that, if I were to die not in my sleep, drowning would be how I'd go. I've always felt a weird connection to the ocean; and if any element were to take my life, I'd hope it'd be water.

Luckily, today isn't my day to die. I don't think I'd still be having conscious thought if I had died…or would I? Hmm. I've never really thought on death; and I don't want to, really. Everything around me sounds sort of disorientated, but I can make out voices…

"Twister, Come on, bro. Don't die on me now." Otto. I can recognize his voice anywhere's; any time, any place, no matter what. I open one eye the slightest amount, hissing as the bright light that assaults me. Closing my eyes tight, I attempt to bring my arm up to cover my face, but it feels so heavy, so weighed down.

"Turn off the sun, bro." I sound like an old man; raspy and halting, like I've been surfing all day without a drink. The light dims, and I open my eyes slowly to Otto's worried face.

"Don't EVER do that to me again, man. You scared me there." I take a moment to look around, realizing that I'm in a hospital room. Not completely uncommon after something like this; Otto alone should have his own private room, the amount of time spent here by the group of us. The fact that I'm at the hospital doesn't bother me much; the positively postal looking Lars standing behind him, though, causes just a fraction of worry.

"Maurice." I blink at him as he all but pushes Otto out of the way, wincing slightly at his hard look as he stands over me. Have I ever mentioned how scary my brother can be? And it's not just a Rodriguez thing, either; although any Hispanic can tell you that there is nothing more frightening then an angry Spanish mother.

"Lars. I um….hi?" And I know that look. That narrow eyed, tight lipped, 'I-know-you-think-acting-like-that-idiot-Rocket-kid-is-cool-but-you-just-look-like-a-lamo-o' look. It's the same look he gives me when Otto convinces me to do something totally stupid and potentially dangerous.

"Don't you um hi me, Maurice. You almost drowned out there. " I shrug, because it's happened before. With surfing comes the risk of drowning; any kid in California can tell you that. He grabs my hand, tugging it, and I wince. "Don't you shrug at me! Damn it, Maurice, you had me SCARED." And that's a new one. Lars has never been scared. Not on account of me. Angry, frustrated, sure, but never scared. I give him a look, and he sits on the bed beside me, frowning at me.

"I'm sorry?" I try, giving a little half shrug to him as I close my eyes again. My head is killing me, and it takes me a minute to realize he's still holding my hand, squeezing it tight. I open my eyes again, and he's staring at me.

"You're not allowed to surf anymore." My eyes widen, even though logically I know he can't stop me from surfing. Otto lets out a snort, and Lars turns to him, standing up and dropping my hand to point at him. "Oh, no, no, no. Rocket, you're going to stay away from my brother. You're always causing trouble, and I'm not going to sit around and let you get my little brother killed. You're not allowed near him any more." I surge up, ignoring the stabbing pain as I let out a sound of protest.

"You can't tell me who I can and can't hang out with!" Lars gives me a look, and I recoil, dropping back onto my pillow as the strain of staying upright becomes too much. My left arm is throbbing and I finally realize why it feels so heavy (there's a cast on it, a lime green cast); my chest feels like it'll explode, and my head is killing me. I let out a little whine (I'm not going to admit it out loud, like, ever, but I know it was more like a whimper) and both Lars and Otto turn to me. I give them my best pout; I really just want some quiet. Lars can't tell me who to be friends with any more then I could tell him.

"Twist?" Otto moves to lean over me, and I close my eyes. I'm starting to feel sleepy; if mama was here, I bet she'd say something stupid like 'all the excitement' is 'wearing me thin.'

"M'sleepy." Lars reaches to touch my arm, and I don't have the energy to push it away as I hear the door open, someone in heavy shoes marching into the room.

"I hear our little surfer has awakened. Mr. Rodriguez , how are you feeling?" His voice is right over me, and I peek one eye open to look at him. He's a lot younger than any doctor I've ever been to before; a little older than Lars, maybe about twenty one? Creepy. I never know what to think of doctors and stuff that are really young….its sort of like, they can't possibly be very experienced, but then, they're trained, so they have to at least know what their doing, right? It's not like the hospital would just let rogue people masquerade as doctors take on patients or anything. And besides, all great old doctors were once young.

I realize I haven't replied when the doctor raises an eyebrow at me. His name tag says Michaels, and he's got sort of a surfer look….

"Like I've had the ocean dumped on me all at once, man. My body is killing me." He chuckles slightly, taking his pen light to flash in my eyes. I hiss slightly, trying to move to hide my eyes, and he laughs full out.

"Well, considering you nearly drowned, I don't blame you there. Honestly, the amount of young surfers we get here…we had a kid bash his head open during those monster swells last week." He gives me a look, and I can't help but, and I know, it sounds cheesy, but I totally fall for his eyes. They're just like…woah. "Come to think of it, didn't I see you riding those waves?" I nod, and Otto perks up.

"Do you surf, doc?"

He grins, shrugging, and I can't help but think that there's more to this doctor then…you know. Doctoring. I think our Dr. Michaels is a bit of a surfer himself. Otto grins, but Lars is still looking like someone shot his puppy, one hand moving up and down my arm as he stares at the doctor. I can see him thinking, and I can promise is won't be something I like by the way he's looking.

"So what's the damage, man? How long do I have to wear this stupid thing?" I motion to the cast on my arm, and he picks up a chart that's attached to the bed I'm in. He hems and ha's a moment, then looks at the calendar on the wall.

"Well, let's say you won't be surfing for about three weeks, little man. Hope you didn't have any plans. I'm also a little worried about your lungs, you took in a lot of water, Maurice. I want you to take it easy for the next few days, bed rest and not a lot else. You're going to get tired easily, you might not have much of an appetite, and you might have some dizzy spells from the lack of oxygen. You were unconscious for longer then I feel comfortable with, so I want you to just keep an eye on yourself." I nod; I'm already feeling a little sleepy and dizzy.

"He will. Don't worry about it." I glance at Lars, who's frowning at Otto. Dr. Michaels motions for Lars to follow him outside, and I turn to Otto, who's giving me a weird look.

"I really was scared, bro. You washed up on shore and you weren't…you weren't breathing man. I thought you'd bit the big one." I chew my lip, a nervous habit of mine, and try not to think of how close I might have come to never being able to surf again.

"I'm sorry, Otto. I didn't mean to scare you guys. Raymundo was right, we should have waited until the waves were less rough." I don't know when I became the semi voice of reason, but Otto nods and I realize that it's true; I've become the mature one and I don' know how I feel about it. Lars comes back in, and he's holding some paper and looking like someone just told him they ran over his surf board. I give him a questioning look, but he just shakes his head and hands me some clothes from the table beside the bed.

"Come on, get dressed…you're coming home with me. And you," he turns to Otto, glaring, "You're going home. Your sister and Squid are here to pick you up. Don't expect to see Maurice this weekend." Otto opens his mouth to say something, but I know better then to argue with Lars when he's like this, and I shake my head at him.

"I'll call you later, bro, promise. Tell Reg and Sammy I'm okay?" Otto nods, and heads out the door as I move to try to change.

This is going to be a long night, by the looks Lars is giving me.


	5. interlude

Always Yours – An Interlude

When I was thirteen, I experienced fear, true fear, for the first time.

Otto, Sam, Reggie and I were four wheeling, just fooling around in the woods on the off road track at the camp ground Raymundo, Noelani and my parents had taken us to. Lars was with us; our parents wouldn't let us explore alone without the 'bigger kid' in case we got lost. It wasn't as much of a drag as it could have been; at sixteen, my brother had actually begun maturing finally.

Otto and Reggie had decided that a race was in order; down around the lake and back. It seemed simple enough- even Sammy was fine with it, the entire track flat and open and easy seeming. Lars had agreed to sit at the finish line to judge the winner, settling down on one of the folding camp chairs with a bottle of coke and a smirk as we lined up to start. We were off on the count of three, and everything seemed fine until the last leg of the race; Otto and Reg had turned the last corner, narrowly avoiding the lip of an embankment we'd all been trying to avoid. Sam and I had pulled up fast behind- Sam on the inside, which meant that he avoided the ridge altogether while I skidded as I turned, my four wheeler spinning out and sending me flying over the edge. I don't remember hearing any noise at all as my body left the four wheeler completely; just white noise and the all encompassing feeling of fear making me incapable of reacting at all. It was like I was flying, but everything was frozen; and then Lars yelled my name and it was broken, like a glass shattered and sent everything back in motion.

I don't remember hitting the ground, or the tree I crash landed into. I do remember Lars' face as he peered over the edge of the ridge, and how pale Otto looked when they finally got me out of there after getting our parents. I know it's weird, but I don't remember being afraid of the fall.

I just remember being afraid of the landing, you know? It was scary. It hurt. I spent a week in the hospital. But the part that stuck in my mind? Lars face, peering over the ridge. He was so scared….

Maybe it's these drugs they have me on, maybe that's why I'm suddenly remembering that while Lars sit sitting beside my bed, holding my hand while the doctor does some tests before we leave. Or maybe it's the look Lars had been wearing when I woke up, the look that's been engrained in my mind since that ay three years ago. Worry, deep set concern, the sort I'd never expected to see on Lars-the same look he'd had then.

"You're going to be fine, Maurice. You're lungs might be weak for awhile; and I don't want you irritating your arm any, it's been fractured in three places. I gave your brother a prescription for some pain killers; make sure you take them with food. You have a slight concussion, so Lars is going to wake you up throughout the night. Take it easy, alright?" I nod, sliding slowly off the bed as Lars lets my hand go to pick up my bag from the floor, motioning for me to follow him as the doc lead us out of the examination room.

"I can do nice and easy, man. Sounds peachy." I state, and am relieved when Lars' lips pull into a half smile.

Hopefully, he's not this quiet all night.


End file.
